


Worlds Collide

by rocknrollravenclaw



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, I just like the intersection of magic and science, Next Gen Hogwarts, Ravenclaw Fitz, Slytherin Jemma, both are 7th years, but it definitely takes place then, just go with it, magic can totally create wormholes, post Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel, the premise is kind of sketchy, theoretical physics, though I'm not planning on including any next gen characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:31:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5580397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrollravenclaw/pseuds/rocknrollravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wormholes, missing students, breaking school rules - sounds like just another day at Hogwarts. When students Fitz and Simmons try a bit of advanced magic, it results in the TARDIS arriving at Hogwarts from another universe. The Doctor and Rose want to go back to their own universe, but before they do, they decide to solve the mystery of why students are disappearing, with help from Fitz and Simmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Whole New World

As the sun set behind Hogwarts, two students made their way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The one in front walked confidently, a giant book tucked under her left arm. The other one was just a few steps behind, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. Their long robes flapped around their ankles and tangled in the undergrowth of the forest. Finally, they entered a small clearing not too far into the forest, with the grounds still in sight.

The girl sat down, gracefully sweeping her robe underneath her, and opened the book on her lap. “Fitz, some light?” she called out as she flipped through the pages.

Fitz fumbled inside his robes for his wand. “Sorry, one moment.” Grabbing the smooth beech wand, he pointed it at the book and whispered, “ ** _Lumos_**.” Immediately the tip of his wand flared brightly, illuminating the words and illustrations on the page. The script was small and untidy, looking like it had been hastily scribbled by the author; the illustrations were the exact opposite, intricately drawn and beautifully colored.

“Jemma, are you _sure_ about this?” Fitz shifted back and forth, glancing back at the castle once more. “Filch almost caught us last time, and it didn’t even work-“

“I’m sure,” Jemma replied, finding the page she was looking for and scanning it eagerly. “I figured out what was wrong with my calculations, it should work this time. And your gadget should help the portal stay open. Oh, did you remember to bring it?”

Fitz retrieved it from his pocket and set it on the ground in response. It was a black cube about the size of a small kettle, clearly assembled from several different pieces of hardware. “Of _course_ I remembered, I’m not daft you know.”

Jemma barely noted his words as she found the incantations she was looking for. Her tidy notes on a scrap on parchment stuck in the book gave her the information she needed to start the process. Standing up, she began muttering the complicated spells, waving her elm wand in a lazy circle in front of her. Her words were clear and steady, the air rippling with the effects of her spells.

It had all started a few months ago, when Jemma Simmons had been looking in the Restricted Section of the library for a book about notable Transfiguration experiments gone wrong. She wanted to use it in a paper for her Transfiguration class. The problem was that the books in the Restricted Section seemed to sort themselves according to their own whims; it took Jemma over an hour to find the book she was looking for. Along the way the tome _Concerning Other Worlds and Dimensions_ caught her eye, the ornate letters on the spine glittering. She had decided to rent it too, just as a fun read.

Jemma soon found that the book was much more challenging than she had anticipated. The author, likely a Muggle-born like her, merged astrophysics with obscure branches of magic. Some of the more complicated ideas went right over her head. However, one of his ideas had interested her: opening an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, a wormhole, into a parallel world. The challenge was in transforming his theoretical idea into a real phenomena. Jemma had always wanted to do something spectacular, to see how science and magic could be combined, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it.

And she wanted her best friend Leo Fitz by her side as she did it.

Fitz and Jemma had been best friends ever since meeting on the Hogwarts Express as first years. They had shared a car with a particularly chatty girl named Skye, who talked non-stop about Hogwarts. The arrival of the trolley lady had finally caused Skye to stop for a moment, and Jemma remembered Fitz giving her a _look_ , one that she had returned bemusedly, and from that moment she knew they were going to be good friends. Even when they were sorted into different houses - Fitz into Ravenclaw, Jemma into Slytherin - their friendship remained solid. Jemma didn’t know anyone as intelligent, charming, curious, or compassionate as Fitz.

Seven years later, they were as close as ever, if not closer. They spent almost every moment together, so much so that they were collectively known to most people as Fitzsimmons. Sometimes Jemma wondered if there could ever be anything . . . _more_ between them. But that was silly. She knew Fitz only liked her as a friend. Nothing more. And she was fine with that; she wouldn’t trade his friendship for anything.

As she finished the penultimate spell in the sequence, the circle of air in front of her was swirling in colorless whorls and patterns. Jemma felt a thrill run through her; already it looked more real and solid than last time. _This could really work_ , she thought. Her palms felt slightly sweaty, but other than that she was completely confident.

She turned to Fitz and flashed him a dazzling smile. “Ready?” she asked. The fact that he believed in her enough to go along with this plan of hers made her feel sure this would work perfectly.

In contrast, Fitz looked uneasy as he gave her a shaky smile in return. She remembered that he had tried his best to dissuade her from trying anything this big without a teacher’s supervision, reminding her of the oft-repeated warnings of their teachers: _don’t mess with magic you don’t understand_. There was a reason this book had been in the restricted section. Jemma had argued back that no teacher would sanction this kind of experiment. She had finally won him over to her side with the promise that she would only open and close it, nothing more.

Making sure her wand was pointed firmly at the spot where the portal would open, Jemma said, “Now Fitz, you need to turn on your vibrator machine right after I say the final incantation, okay?” His cube, when activated, sent out pulsing vibrations at a steady pace. Fitz said it would likely help keep the portal open for at least a few seconds.

“I _know Jemma_. We’ve been over this hundreds of times already.” Fitz’s Scottish accent always intensified when he was miffed, something Jemma enjoyed hearing. (Maybe that was why she liked annoying him so much.) “And it’s not a vibrator, it’s a high-frequency resonating apparatus.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, but turned back to the portal with a smile on her face. They were ready to go. Staring into the swirling air, she spoke the final spell commandingly: “ ** _Ostium Novus Terrarum_**.”

Immediately the swirls picked up pace, moving and shifting almost too fast for the eye to see. The wormhole darkened until it was black, an odd contrast with the orange tones of the sunset. Jemma noticed with interest that the portal was actually a sphere rather than a circle; the author had been uncertain as to whether it would be two- or three-dimensional. It was an eerie yet captivating sight, one Jemma knew she would never forget.

Then she heard it - actually, it was more like she felt it: a low _thrum_ deep down in her ear canal. Turning slightly, she saw thin yellow tendrils connecting Fitz’s wand to the cube. The cube looked inactive, yet the building pressure in her ears told Jemma that it was working. Fitz met her gaze and gave her a giddy thumbs-up with his free hand.

A brief flash of light caught Jemma’s eye. The chaotic swirling of the portal appeared to be slowing down while a few flashes of light whizzed through the sphere and disappeared. Jemma was reminded of crystal ball as the wormhole began to turn opaque. The flashes of light also slowed as a fuzzy picture slowly formed in the sphere: a far-away village, a field of heather, something faded and blue on the edge.

“Fitz, it’s working!” Jemma cried excitedly. Her dreams from the last few months were finally coming true; this was quite possibly the best day of her life. Suddenly filled with energy, she started jumping up and down and whooping, not caring if anyone heard. The picture before them was _another world_ ; who cared about being caught outside after hours?

Meanwhile, Fitz slowly circled the wormhole, viewing the sight from all angles. “That’s incredible,” he breathed. “Jemma, you’re brilliant.”

Jemma was now finding it hard to ignore the vibrations in her head; she knew she would get a massive headache after this. Shaking her head, she moved closer to the portal, trying to get a better glimpse of the village and the blue thing. It looked like a tall box. For a moment a crazy idea flitted across her brain. _No, I really shouldn’t. I promised._

The pressure in her ears was suddenly released. Fitz had turned off the black box, likely also experiencing the pressure beginning to turn painful. The image in the portal began to waver. Jemma knew what that meant: the portal was breaking down and about to collapse any second. The crazy idea came back, and this time she listened to it. She wanted a souvenir from that world, something to keep as proof that she had performed extraordinary magic. Pointing her wand once again at the portal, she hastily shouted, “ ** _Accio blue box!_** ”

The last thing Jemma saw in the wormhole was an expanse of blue before she was thrown backwards. She heard Fitz’s shout of surprise as she hit the ground. Propping herself up, she noticed a tall box standing in front of her. Its coloring was almost a cobalt shade of blue, though the box seemed weathered rather than vibrant. Leaning to one side, she noticed what was left of the portal swirling meaninglessly before vanishing completely.

“What the bloody hell is that?” Fitz asked as he retrieved his black box, which had barely avoided being crushed by the arrival.

Jemma pushed herself to her feet and approached the box, slowly stroking the side. It felt like normal wood. Any other planet having trees like Earth was almost statistically impossible, meaning . . . that had been a parallel Earth. Something that many astrophysicists had dreamed of and theorized, but never confirmed. “I brought it back. Through the portal.”

“You did _what_?!” Fitz sputtered. “Are you crazy? Jemma, you promised not to be reckless!”

“I wanted to see if I could.” Jemma turned to him, face lit up. “Don’t you see? This is something from another planet! Right here in front of us! This is the discovery of a lifetime.”

“We don’t even know what it _is_. It could be dangerous!”

“It’s made of wood, Fitz, how harmful could it be?” Looking up, she read the words along the top border of the box and frowned. “Though, I must admit, I didn’t expect to grab a police box.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meanings behind different wand woods can be found here: http://pottermore.wikia.com/wiki/Wand_Woods
> 
> The spell "Ostium Novus Terrarum" is one I created for the purpose of this story. All words are Latin: "ostium" means door, "novus" means new, and "terrarum" means world.
> 
> See notes at end of chapter 2 for an important author's note on the longevity of this fic.


	2. Through the Wormhole

“Now _that_ was the type of adventure I’d like to have more often.” Rose Tyler leaned back into the battered cushions in the TARDIS console room and propped her feet up on the center console. “Less running and more sight-seeing.”

“But running’s brilliant!” the Doctor protested as he ran around the console, pressing buttons and throwing levers in his usual haphazard fashion. “It’s good exercise, a great way to get out of danger fast, and makes long coats look cool.” He rustled his coat for effect. “That’s the whole reason I chose this coat, was to look cool while running.”

Rose smiled at his slight vanity. “I thought you chose that coat because Janis Joplin gave it to you.”

“She _did_ give it to me! _And_ said I looked cool while running in it.” The Doctor lifted Rose’s feet briefly so he could finish his circle around the console.

“You know, you once told me you would take me to meet Janis Joplin,” Rose said languidly as she pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening up the messaging function. She caught a whiff of her underarms and crinkled her nose; she seriously needed to take a shower after all the hiking they’d done.

“Did I? Well then, let’s go right now!” The Doctor began furiously winding a crank, and the TARDIS gave a soft _whirring_ sound in response.

“I didn’t mean _now_. I need to send these pics to my mum. She’s always wanted to see the Cairngorms.” Rose pressed the _send_ button and 26 photos began the slow process of sending themselves to Jackie’s phone. She never knew how much time passed for Jackie when she was traveling, so she liked to send photos to her mum as a way of staying in touch.

“If she wants to see them so bad she should go visit them. It’s not like they’re on another planet or—“

The Doctor’s words were cut short when the TARDIS gave a violent lurch. The Doctor fell back against the railing while Rose’s feet fell off the console. She jumped off the couch and grabbed onto the console for support. “Doctor, what’s happening? What did you do?” This had felt much more violent than when the TARDIS normally dematerialized, meaning something was wrong.

He frowned. “I don’t know. That came from outside.” Pushing himself up, the Doctor ran to the monitor, Rose right behind him. After twisting the knobs back and forth, a fuzzy picture formed outside. What appeared to be a black sphere with bright flashes of light constantly appearing and disappearing had formed behind the TARDIS. The Doctor’s face grew serious. “We need to go, now.”

“What? What is it?” As always, Rose was left out of the loop. She didn’t see what was so bad about the sphere, except that it clearly didn’t belong in 21st century Scotland.

“It’s a wormhole. An artificial bridge between two points of space-time that works by warping the fabric of the universe to bring them closer together.” The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair, something he did when he was agitated. “Only this one looks like it’s from another universe.”

“Like Pete’s World, yeah?” Rose asked, keeping her eyes on the monitor. She watched as the sphere began to form an image, one which she couldn’t distinguish from the hazy monitor picture.

“Exactly like Pete’s World. And remember how crippled the TARDIS was then?”

Of course Rose remembered. She remembered every single detail of their time in Pete’s World Her dad alive again, her parents still married, the life she could have had . . .

She shook her head. No. She was done with trying to find ways to cheat time. Thanks to the Doctor she had gotten to meet her dad, not once but twice, and that was enough for her. It would be wrong of her to want to go through this wormhole and visit this parallel universe, in which her dad might yet again be alive. “Right. I suppose we should fly away then, yeah?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the TARDIS shuddered. A deep groaning noise issued from beneath them. Rose gripped the console tighter; the TARDIS definitely didn’t like being so close to another universe. The Doctor squinted as he leaned closer to the monitor, his nose only a few inches away. “The wormhole looks like it’s closing, we should be safe now—“

The TARDIS gave another violent lurch, much bigger than the previous one. Rose managed to stay upright, though she ended up using the Doctor as her support. An alarm started ringing throughout the console room, accompanied by a thin cloud of smoke rising from the floor. The various lights on the console began blinking on and off.

The Doctor sprang into action. Tracing the smoke to its source, he removed one of the floor grilles and dropped down below. After a few seconds of doing something Rose couldn’t see, the smoke began to dissipate. The Doctor stuck his head out of the hole, looking like an overgrown rabbit, with his hair sticking out in all directions. “Rose, would you press the three yellow buttons below the monitor while sticking out your other arm?”

Rose cocked an eyebrow, but did what he said. Holding her left arm out to her side and pressing the three buttons with her right, the alarm halted mid-ring and the buttons all went dark with a low _thrum_. The TARDIS was now eerily silent, so much that Rose could hear the soft _thump_ of her heart. At least the TARDIS didn’t seem dead, like it had been when they had fallen into Pete’s World.

The Doctor climbed out of the floor and replaced the grill. “Doctor . . . did we fall through the wormhole?” Rose asked. Though his face was carefully blank, she knew he was worried about his ship.

“The wormhole was closing. Something must have pulled us through.” The Doctor slid his hand along the top of the console. “Whatever it was, the power messed with the TARDIS’ dematerialization circuits. They need time to build up their power reserves before we can dematerialize.”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing was seriously wrong with the TARDIS. In the meantime though . . .

“What do you say we let the circuits do their thing in peace, and we take a brief shore leave?” Rose gave the Doctor her winning smile, the one that he could never seem to resist. “I _promise_ if this is some parallel Earth I won’t go looking for my mum or dad.”

The Doctor folded his glasses and put them in his coat pocket, indecision written on his face. “We _should_ stay here in case anything else goes wrong . . . but we don’t know what’s out there . . . and something with that much power . . . well, maybe it would be best to . . .”

“C’mon Doctor, you know you want to.” A shrill cascade of notes sounded from her pocket, and Rose jumped; she had completely forgotten about texting her mum in light of a new adventure.

The Doctor stayed still for a moment before coming to a decision and turning to his companion with a wide grin. “Well then, allons-y!”

Rose practically skipped towards the doors, grabbing her jean jacket as an afterthought. She was still in her hiking clothes: a pair of sweatpants and a brightly-colored exercise shirt with a pair of sturdy shoes. Slipping her arms into the sleeves, she followed the Doctor through the doors and into the dense forest outside. Despite the relatively warm temperature outside, Rose felt chills run up her arm. The forest felt . . . creepy. Perhaps it was the fact that the trees were too close together, allowing very little light to hit the ground. Or maybe it was the fact that the sun was currently setting, coloring the trees with a dark orange light. Whichever it was, Rose was glad to see that the forest ended not too far to her right, opening onto a small lawn with a large cottage. And behind that . . .

“That castle is huge!” Rose commented. It was a massive stone structure, featuring random towers of varying heights and many courtyards in seemingly random spots. It stood on a rocky hillside above a massive lake as still as glass. “My mum would love to live in a place as grand as that.”

The Doctor knelt, ripped a leaf from a plant on the ground, and chewed on it. Rose rolled her eyes as he swallowed before exclaiming, “We’re still in Scotland! Brilliant! Mind you, it’s a funny sort of Scotland — well, funnier than usual. It almost tastes . . . sparkly.”

Rose crossed her arms. “Doctor, you’re not making sense. Again.”

A sneeze sounded from behind the TARDIS. Rose and the Doctor quickly turned around. “Hello?” Rose called out. “Somebody there?”

It was deathly quiet for a moment. Then there came some rustling sounds and quiet whispers, and two humans appeared from where they had been crouched behind the TARDIS. They looked to be older teenagers; one was a male with curly hair and some sort of black box, the other a girl with long hair holding a thick book. Both were wearing what looked like Halloween costume robes and had polished sticks in their hands. Both had sheepish expressions on their faces.

The girl was the one to speak. “Well, I, um . . . I didn’t realize there were people in there. Sorry. Anyways . . . welcome to Hogwarts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know the fact that this fic is a crossover of two fandoms with two characters from a third is weird and perhaps too exclusive, meaning a lot of people might be put off by it. So, I'm only going two chapters for now, then wait and see if I have enough interest. I have a large storyline planned, but I don't want to put in a lot of time and effort if I only have two readers. If you like this fic and want to read more, please leave kudos or comments. I also don't mind constructive criticism. So, yeah, that's it. Thanks!


	3. Introductions

Fitz regretted this entire experiment. It was dangerous enough as is, opening a bridge to a theoretical new universe. But Jemma had to go and break her promise to do nothing more than open the wormhole. Now they had to deal with people from another universe, who likely had no idea what was going on.

“Say, is that a high-frequency resonating device?”

Okay, so maybe they knew _something_.

The first thing Fitz had noticed about this man is that he was _tall_ and super skinny. His spiky and somewhat disheveled hair was rather pretentious. Next to him stood (his girlfriend? That would be just Fitz’s luck) an attractive blond woman who looked not much older than Fitz. She was busy looking back and forth between Hogwarts and Jemma in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Fitz muttered, instantly disliking the man. Something about the man’s hairstyle and his tone of voice made him look like show-off. “I built it myself. With my bare hands.”

Jemma gave him an exasperated look. Fitz knew she knew exactly what he was trying to do: get the upper hand in a conversation by appearing smarter or more talented than the other guy.

“So . . . that’s the real Hogwarts,” the blond girl stated uncertainly. Fitz noted that both their accents were British; what were the chances? “In this universe, the Harry Potter books are real life. Is that possible?”

The man tugged on his earlobe. “Of course it’s possible, just statistically rare. The chances are maybe one in-“

Jemma excitedly interrupted him. “‘Harry Potter books’? We’re a set of stories in your world? Our reality is your fiction. That means . . . our world came into existence from yours! Fitz, this is incredible!”

“Well, not exactly,” the man corrected her. “Your world is fundamentally removed from our universe in terms of physical laws. The divergence of your universe from its parent universe must have happened, oh, a few billion years ago.”

Fitz was feeling left out, so he walked over to the blond girl and stuck out his hand. “I’m Fitz, and this is Simmons. Sorry for accidentally kidnapping you from your own universe.”

The girl laughed, a beautifully genuine laugh that made Fitz smile in response. “I’m Rose, Rose Tyler, and that’s the Doctor. And no problem, I’ve been in weirder situations. Traveling with him does that.”

She said this so matter-of-factly that Fitz was slightly taken aback. “Oh. Well. This is the weirdest situation I’ve been in, so, um, there’s that,” Fitz replied awkwardly. _Good job, very smooth_ , he mentally berated himself.

Jemma and the Doctor (Fitz wondered if the man was actually a doctor) finished their conversation and turned back towards Fitz and Rose. “Fitz, this man is incredible! He knows more about theoretical astrophysics than even the author of this book!” Jemma shook the book in her hand for emphasis. “With his help, we might be able to keep the portal open for as long as thirty seconds!”

“First, it’s not a _portal_ , it’s an Einstein-Rosen Bridge,” the Doctor interrupted, sounding slightly irked. “Second, you’re planning on doing it again? Why?”

Jemma’s enthusiasm wasn’t dampened by his tone. “Because we wanted to do something incredible! Opening a port- wormhole, sorry, is something that, to our knowledge, has never been done before in the history of magic.”

Fitz jumped in. “Despite recent changes in attitude, science is still seen as a Muggle study.”

“Hold on,” Rose interjected. “Muggle?”

“Any non-magical person,” Jemma replied. “Magic is something you’re born with; it can’t be acquired.”

“ _Anyways_ ,” Fitz said, “many wizards look down on science. But Simmons and I love the intersection of magic and science.”

“After all, magic may very well be science we haven’t discovered yet,” Jemma finished.

“But you’re dealing with incredibly dangerous science!” the Doctor exclaimed. “If anything went wrong, you could collapse several universes!”

Fitz felt his face begin to flush. Though he didn’t like the man much, he did seem to know what he was talking about. Fitz and Jemma had talked about the potential consequences for days, going over all the possibilities of what could go wrong, and if it was really worth it. But the factor that had finally persuaded Fitz was . . .

“It’s not just for curiosity’s sake. It’s also to save the students here.”

There was a brief silence at Fitz’s words. The Doctor and Rose shared a glance, and Fitz swore it almost looked like they appeared marginally more excited than they had before. Rose crossed her arms. She asked, “Save them? What’s happening to them?”

Now it was time for Fitz and Jemma to share a glance. “Well . . . they’ve started to go missing,” Jemma said tentatively.

“In the past month three students have just vanished.” Fitz scratched the nape of his neck, unsure of why he was even telling them this. He and Jemma should be opening another wormhole and returning them to their own universe. They didn’t need to hear this. “Nobody can find any trace of them. They just went _poof_.”

Jemma elaborated, “At first the teachers thought it was a case of accidental magic — people trying to apparate before they were ready or stuff like that. But the third person to go missing was a first year, and no first year would be even modestly successful with something like that. There seems to be no pattern to the disappearances.”

“And we thought, if we maybe found out what was doing it, then we could, um, open up a wormhole and drop it into another world. To stop it for good.” When he had first suggested this idea to Jemma, it had sounded clever and heroic. But now, saying it to near strangers, Fitz thought it was stupid. Maybe Harry Potter could pull off something like this, but not them. Who were they to try something like this?

Rose lightly elbowed the Doctor in the ribs. “This sounds like a _magical_ mystery, eh?”

The Doctor sighed. “Rose, we’re dealing with magic here. Real proper magic. I’m sure there’s a magical solution to their problem.”

“ _Buuuuuut_ ,” Rose argued, “what if it’s aliens? Real proper aliens? Hmmmmmm?”

“Aliens?!” Fitz and Jemma exclaimed simultaneously. Fitz hadn’t thought about the existence of aliens much, but he and Jemma agreed that their existence would be awesome.

“Rose-“ the Doctor protested.

“How long will it take for the dematerialization circuits to be at full power?”

“Almost five hours, but-“

“So that’s plenty of time to find out if it’s aliens or not.”

Rose and the Doctor stared at each other, neither one willing to back down. Rose had a small smirk on her face, while the Doctor’s expression was wavering. Fitz watched them, feeling a mixture of both amusement and jealousy. They seemed a lot like him and Jemma, with their easy bantering and unrelenting stubbornness. Yet there was something about their relationship that seemed even deeper than what he and Jemma had. Even though he was saying no, it was clear to Fitz that the Doctor would do what Rose wanted. And Rose didn’t seem like the type of person to abuse that power over him. Fitz wanted to have something like that with someone. But it would have to be the right person.

The Doctor conceded. “Alright, we’ll check it out. Could you show us the way to your school?” he asked, turning to Jemma.

“We didn’t ask for your help,” Fitz muttered, too low for the Doctor to hear him.

“I’m not sure you’ll be allowed inside,” Jemma said uncertainly. “You’re not wizards.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” The Doctor winked at them, then stuck his hand in his pocket. 

Fitz was eager to end the conversation; he didn’t want the Doctor sticking around. “We should be heading back. We’re late enough as is.”

“We’re not supposed to be outside our dormitories after hours,” Jemma explained. “We snuck out to try this.”

“I didn’t peg you as a rebel,” Rose said, grinning broadly.

Fitz sighed. “Come on.” He began walking in the direction of the castle, knowing Jemma would follow. The sun had set, leaving the sky to slowly grow darker. He began to hear slight noises in the forest, skittering sounds that meant the creatures within were beginning to stir. Good time to head back.

On their way across the grounds, Jemma and the Doctor fell into step, discussing something about the mechanics of magic. That meant Fitz had the opportunity to talk to Rose, uninterrupted.

“So, um, I noticed that you have a British accent, like Simmons, which means there’s a Britain in your world.” Fitz winced at how awkward that sounded; he was no good at being suave.

“Yep! Born and raised in London.” Rose sauntered beside him, hands stuck in her pockets. “And I notice,” she continued, her voice thickening and becoming harder to understand, “that you have a Scottish accent, meaning we’re in Scotland in your world, aye?”

It took Fitz a moment to realize that she was trying (and failing) to adopt a Scottish accent. “No, don’t do that. That’s just . . . no.”

“Sorry.” Rose looked disappointed. “I’ve been working on it since meeting Queen Victoria, but I can’t quite get it . . .” She frowned and was silent for a moment before brightening. “Can you show me some magic?”

“I suppose,” Fitz replied, grabbing his wand from his inner robe pocket. This was his chance to impress her. Pointing his wand steadily at the ground several feet in front of him, he stopped and clearly intoned, “ ** _Aguamenti_**.”

A thin stream of water shot out of the tip of his wand, gently splashing the grass. Rose gasped, then smiled. Fitz couldn’t help but grin in response. He may not be as physically attractive as some of his classmates, or as social as them, but he was one of the best in his year at consistently performing spells.

He gently flicked his wand and the water ceased. “Wanna see something else?”

“Yes!”

Fitz performed several acts of magic for Rose the rest of the way back to the castle. He levitated a few rocks, turned himself nearly invisible, and produced a flock of tiny birds that perched on Rose’s shoulders and in her hair. Her infectious smile and childlike joy made Fitz feel light and carefree, enough to smother the jealousy he felt at seeing Simmons and the Doctor chatting like old friends.

Reaching the front doors of Hogwarts, they quietly slipped in the castle and made their way through a twisting labyrinth of back hallways. Old Filch patrolled the hallways at night with his equally old cat Mrs. Norris, always hoping to catch students out of bed. Fitz was proud to say that he and Jemma had never been caught.

Finally, they arrived at the base of a long staircase that curved sharply to the left as it wound its way up Ravenclaw tower. He and Jemma often parted here whenever they headed back to their dorms. Each time Fitz felt a _pang_ , wondering what could have been if they had been sorted into the same house. He didn’t think he had the ambition to be in Slytherin, but Jemma definitely had the creativity and intelligence prized by Ravenclaw. If only . . .

“Where are they going to stay?” Jemma’s question pulled Fitz out of his thoughts. The two newcomers were busy looking around, taking in the moving portraits on the walls. It was barely light enough in the corridors to see the subjects of the paintings taking long, deep breaths, their snoring filling the silence with a light rumble. By now the portraits were a familiar sight to him, but he could remember how astonished he had been by them when he first arrived at Hogwarts so many years ago.

“Um, well, I think they should go with you. Less people awake in your house,” Fitz replied. Quite a few Ravenclaws stayed up all night working on whatever projects had inspired them, Fitz among them. The Slytherins, however, seemed to go to bed early and wake up early (“The better to plan our evil schemes,” Jemma often joked).

“That makes sense. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” Jemma stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Fitz; he did the same in return. Resting her head comfortably on his shoulder, she whispered, “I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course,” he breathed. “We’re a team, you and I.”

_Click. Click. Click._ “What are you doing out of bed at this hour?”

Fitz and Jemma jumped apart, turning to face the staircase. Professor Henstridge, the Muggle Studies teacher, was descending from Ravenclaw tower. She was an older teacher with long silver hair and a lined face. Fitz could feel Jemma drooping beside him. Professor Henstridge was her favorite teacher, and Fitz knew Jemma hated to disappoint teachers she liked.

Fitz’s mind felt scrambled. “We were, uh, we were just-“

“They were escorting us to our rooms.” The Doctor strode forward and held out his hand. “I’m the Doctor and this is Rose. We were appointed by the headmaster to investigate the recent student disappearances.”

Professor Henstridge’s mouth twitched; it almost looked like she was fighting a smile. “I see. Do you have identification? I’m sure you understand my hesitation in taking the word of strangers while students are disappearing.”

“Of course.” The Doctor reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a battered piece of leather. He flipped it open and showed its contents to the professor. “These are the credentials for me and my associate.”

The professor glanced at it for a moment before shooing it away. “This seems to be in order. I will escort you to a guest room you can use. I’m sure you are fine with sharing a room?”

Both Rose and the Doctor seemed to flush slightly. “No - no problem,” the Doctor stammered. “Fine with me,” Rose chirped, sounding a little strained. Fitz and Jemma shared another _look_. Yep, they were definitely more than friends.

“However-“ Professor Henstridge turned back to Fitz and Jemma. “You two will still receive detention for being out past curfew.” Fitz groaned while Jemma sighed; there went their perfect record. “Meet me in my office tomorrow at 7.”

She walked between Fitz and Jemma, her heels clacking dully on the stone floor. “Doctor, Rose, follow me.” The newcomers followed the professor; Rose turned her head to give Fitz and Jemma a sympathetic smile. Within seconds the three of them were swallowed by the dark hallway.

“I suppose this will be all over the school tomorrow,” Jemma said.

“Yeah. Fitzsimmons, the genius teacher’s pets, turned delinquents. We’ll be famous.” Fitz chuckled at the thought.

“Well, we best be getting to bed. It’s not safe to linger.” Jemma patted Fitz’s shoulder and gave him one last smile. “See you tomorrow.” She turned and headed down the corridor that gently sloped down to the Slytherin dormitory.

Fitz watched her go for a moment before lifting the hem of his robe and beginning the trek up to his dorm. He always hated making this trip in the dark; the lit torches on the walls cast creepy shadows on the walls, and the only sound Fitz could hear was his own breathing. After a few minutes he reached the top of the stairs and stood in front of the door to the common room.

He stood and waited. Every person entering the common room had to answer a riddle given by the eagle knocker. Most were answered within a few minutes, but some were challenging. Fitz could remember in his fourth year when the knocker asked him and one of his friends about whether centaurs were more human or horse; their argument lasted 15 minutes and involved half of Ravenclaw house.

After what seemed like an hour, a soft voice issued from the knocker: “If a tree falls in the Forbidden Forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?”

Fitz was relieved; here was an easy question. “Of _course_ it does. Sound is a series of waves moving in a specific direction. It’s not dependent on a receiver.”

“That was quickly answered.” The knocker always sounded neutral when complimenting students, but Fitz thought he heard a note of exasperation whenever it complimented him. “Scientifically accurate as always.”

The door slowly swung inward, beckoning Fitz to enter. He pushed through the door and shut it quietly behind him. A number of Ravenclaws were still awake, but they were too absorbed in their own projects to notice Fitz or wonder why he was out late. Thus he slipped unnoticed into his dorm.

He didn’t want to wake the rest of the boys in his room, so he left his wand unlighted and changed into his pajamas in the dark. Setting his black box and wand on his bedside table, he pulled back the covers and crawled into bed.

_Crackle_.

Groaning softly, Fitz twisted and turned in his bed, running his hands over the bedsheet until he found the thing making the noise. It felt like a worn and crumpled piece of paper. Fitz stood completely still for a moment, trying to come to a decision: read it now or later? _It might be important_ , he thought. He grabbed his wand, pulled the covers over his head, and whispered, “ ** _Lumos_**.”

Once more his wand tip lit up with a whitish light, illuminating the paper in front of him. Fitz struggled to read the words on the paper, which were written in a loopy and messy handwriting.

“Unravelling the Seecrets of Tyme” p 517  
Jemma and Rose  
Perthshire  
1962  
Trust the Doctor

Fitz furrowed his brow. He hadn’t written this. But who had? Most of the note made no sense. He had never heard of the mentioned book, and Perthshire and the year 1962 held no significance to him. And why were Rose and the Doctor in there? He had only met them an hour ago; who would know them in this universe? Unless it was a different Rose and different Doctor . . .

“ ** _Nox_**.” The area under the sheets went dark as Fitz settled into his normal sleeping position. He placed his wand back on the table, note carefully folded beside it. His mind continued to whir and think as he closed his eyes. Time. Jemma. Rose. Perthshire. 1962. He would ask Jemma about this tomorrow and see what she thought.

Even though the meaning of the note was hidden from him, Fitz knew that it signaled something big — and the four of them were caught right in the middle of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kudos and feedback! I've decided to continue writing this. I have it planned out in-depth to chapter 10, and will plan more as time allows. The chapters will likely get longer (since this chapter was slightly longer than the first two combined) now that Fitz, Simmons, Ten, and Rose get to interact with each other. Thanks again!
> 
> I'm planning in the next few chapters to throw in tidbits of how I imagine the wizarding world to be during the next gen.


	4. Magical Mystery Tour

BING! kkkkkkkkkk _clackclackclack_ kkkkkkkkkk _boingsheeeeeeeeaaaaa_ BING! . . .

Rose sleepily cracked one eye open when it became clear the noise would not cease. Raising her head a little, she spied the Doctor sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with an object in his hands. Whatever he was doing to it, it clearly wasn’t wanting to work properly; the Doctor kept glaring at it. Eventually he hit it with his sonic screwdriver, which caused it to give off three loud _whoops_ before falling silent.

Rose fell back onto her pillow. Almost as soon as she had hit the bed the night before, she had fallen into a deep sleep. Must have been all the hiking she did. She wiggled her arms, extracting them from the blankets to rub her eyes. The hairs on her arms stood up in the cold air. The room was made entirely from stone and the fireplace was unlit, but Rose was nice and warm under the many blankets on her bed.

_They’re wizards, why can’t they just use their magic and make this room warm?_ she grumbled in her head as she drew back the covers and sat up. She stepped into the slippers and dressing robe they had provided for her. Rose stared blankly across the room for a moment as she struggled to wake up. Slowly her eyes focused better on the Doctor, who was still paying attention to his device.

“Doctor, where’d you get that?”

“From my pocket.” He wiggled the object for emphasis, causing it to erupt into a constant chattering noise. He hit it again with the screwdriver and once more the noise ceased.

Rose arched an eyebrow. The object looked like a large calculator, with lots of buttons and a little screen; however, it had several crooked antennas sticking out of the top and pointing in different directions, as well as a bicycle bell attached to the bottom. “There’s no way that would fit in your pocket,” she argued.

“It would if my pockets happened to be, say, bigger on the inside,” he replied cheekily, winking at her before activating his sonic screwdriver. A line appeared on the screen, spiking upwards at regular intervals, accompanied by a tiny _beep_ from the machine. The Doctor let out a relieved sigh and took off his glasses, setting them on the bed next to him.

Rose rolled her eyes at him while picking up his glasses and holding them out of danger’s way. This was his fourth pair of glasses (that she had counted, anyways); the first three had all been broken, pulverized, or lost, often by the Doctor setting them down and forgetting about them. Placing the glasses on her own head, she sat directly across from the Doctor and leaned forward. “What exactly does that do then?”

“ _This_ ,” the Doctor said with emphasis, “is an alienometer. I made the name up myself; isn’t it brilliant?”

Rose couldn’t help but smile. “It’s really not.”

“You’re right, it’s rubbish, but since I don’t have a better name, the alienometer it is. It scans the air and detects alien life. Anything not native to Earth will register on here. Like-“ He was cut short as a large button under the screen glowed yellow and a small alarm blared. He pressed another button and the noises and flashes of light stopped. “Like that. Looks like it’s working properly now. It was having problems this morning; the magic in this place is messing with the circuits and technology.”

“Like with the TARDIS,” Rose commented. It was times like this she wished she was more technologically minded, so she could help the Doctor, or at least understand the problem. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten much for dinner yesterday. “I wonder if they have breakfast around here?”

Just as she finished talking, a knock sounded on the door to their room. “Come in!” Rose called loudly.

The door was opened and Professor Henstridge entered the room, carrying a wad of black fabric under her arm and followed by two tiny creatures carrying trays of food above their heads. The creatures were wrinkled and old-looking, with large pointed ears. They were each wearing a a clean brown tunic that almost went to their flat feet.

“Breakfast for the visitors!” the one in front squeaked, setting their tray on the end of Rose’s bed. The second one placed theirs on the Doctor’s bed. Both trays featured muffins, an assortment of jams and butter, sausages, a little bowl of fruit, and some milk in a small pitcher.

“Thank you,” Rose replied graciously. She remembered them being described in the books, but couldn’t remember what they were called. “Excuse me — what are they?” she asked, gesturing at the creatures.

“They’re house-elves,” the professor replied.

The elves nodded enthusiastically. “I’m Paprika!” exclaimed one shrilly.

“And I’m Squash!” squeaked the other.

“You’re named after food?” Rose asked bemusedly.

“We named ourselves!” said Paprika (at least Rose thought it was that one; they had moved so they were standing side by side, and she couldn’t tell them apart).

“We like our names,” added Squash.

“House-elves were enslaved by wizards for a long time,” Professor Henstridge explained, her voice saddened. “Anti-slavery legislation was passed only ten years ago, meaning many house-elves are still in the slave mindset. Paprika and Squash are part of a new generation born into freedom. Giving _themselves_ names is actually an incredible step forward.”

“You guys kept slaves?” Rose’s voice came out colder than she intended.

But the professor only nodded. “And much worse. For quite a long time wizard society was built on institutional racism. But ever since the restructuring of the Ministry, things have been changing for the better. Perhaps one day we can look back on our history and feel pride in our accomplishments instead of shame.”

The Doctor eyed the professor carefully. “You are a wise woman.”

She shrugged. “I’m old and I’ve lived a strange life.”

Rose took a closer look at the house-elves as she began buttering a muffin. They didn’t seem abused or enslaved; then again, neither had the Ood. Sometimes traveling with the Doctor proved just how amazing people of all kinds could be. Other times, however, it just seemed that humans made the same mistakes again and again without caring about the consequences.

Rose sighed; it was no use contemplating human folly before breakfast. She eagerly dug into her food, savoring the rich flavors and perfect temperature of the items. “This is delicious,” she complimented, giving the house-elves a thumbs-up.

They bowed and gave her wide smiles. “She likes it!” they cried in unison. _They’re such cheerful creatures_ , Rose thought, feeling her spirits rise every time they spoke.

“Time to go back to the kitchen,” Professor Henstridge said, opening the door for them. Paprika and Squash waved as they walked backwards; Rose and the Doctor waved in return.

The professor closed the door and wiped her hands on her skirt unconsciously. “The headmaster has instructed me to find out what you plan to do today in your investigation.”

The Doctor had started nibbling on a bare muffin; he set it down and cleared his throat. “I thought I’d wander around the school, looking around for anything strange with my device here.”

“I see.” The professor turned to Rose. “And what about you? Will you accompany him?”

Rose swallowed down her last bite of sausage before speaking. “Actually, I was thinking of blending in with the students, y’know, seeing things from their perspective. I could follow Fitz or Simmons around, if that’s alright.”

“I’m sure Simmons would not mind having you tag along.” The professor rubbed her face, suddenly looking tired. “Just make sure Fitzsimmons escort you back here before their detention.” Grabbing the black cloth tucked under her arm, she threw the bundle to Rose, who caught it easily. “And both of you, wear these.”

Rose slowly stood up as she untangled the cloth. Eventually the bundle separated into two long black robes, copies of the ones Fitz and Simmons had been wearing. She handed the other one to the Doctor before removing her dressing robe and pulling the new robe on over her hiking clothes (when she got back to the TARDIS she planned on taking an hour-long shower). Testing it out, she slowly twisted her torso, watching how the fabric shifted and swirled around her ankles. _This is cool_ , she thought.

She turned to the Doctor and grinned when she saw him in his robe. It matched the style of his brown pin-striped suit, leaving him looking like professor. Even his mussed hair somehow fit the professor aesthetic, giving his formal appearance a touch of charm.

“Shall we?” Professor Henstridge opened the door and stood beside, clearly indicating that she was ready for them to leave.

The Doctor snatched the alienometer and, as he walked past Rose, reclaimed his glasses from her head, tucking them in his pocket. “Ready to see some magic?” he asked with a sly grin as they exited the chilly room, entering the slightly warmer corridor beyond.

“Am I ever!” she grinned back, looping her arm in his. Their break in the Cairngorms had been nice and pleasant; but now, with a mystery ahead of them and possible aliens to catch, Rose felt her heart begin to sing with the thrill of it.

As they followed the professor, Rose began to wonder how they would ever find something in this castle. There seemed to be endless corridors, stairways, and doors all around; she was surprised anyone could find their way through this maze.

After a few minutes they stopped at a junction, which Rose recognized as the place Fitz and Simmons had departed last night. It was much different during the day; the portraits on the walls were active and awake, clearly illuminated in the morning light.

Three students approached them from the hallway on the right; as they came closer, Rose recognized one of them as Jemma. Jemma, noticing the professor, whispered something to the other two before detaching from the group. Jemma was wearing the same robe she had been the night before, but in the better light Rose saw that, unlike her plain robe, Jemma’s was trimmed in green. Nearly obscured by the strap on her lumpy bag was a shiny silver pin that featured the letter P.

“Simmons, Rose is going to shadow you today as part of her investigation,” Professor Henstridge explained. “Doctor, follow me.” The professor turned and walked down the hallway to her left. The Doctor followed, giving Rose one last wink, which she returned.

Jemma nodded eagerly. “Of course.” She turned to Rose with a pleasant smile. “Hello. We didn’t get to properly meet yesterday. I’m Jemma.”

“I’m Rose.” They shook hands. Rose mentally shook her head at how preppy and . . . _proper_ Jemma seemed. It was hard to believe the girl standing in front of her had snuck out after hours to open up a dangerous wormhole.

“So, once Fitz gets down here, we’ll head off to Potions,” Jemma rattled off as she leaned against the wall. “After that I have Magical Linguistics - that’s a special class, I’m lucky it was even offered this year - then lunch, Transfiguration, and a study period. Then it’s just homework and sleep.”

“Don’t you have detention?” Rose reminded the girl.

Jemma groaned. “Oh no, I completely forgot about that! I hate having detention.”

Rose grinned as she thought of her own days at school. “I remember getting detention a few times - for skipping class though, not sneaking out and performing dangerous experiments.”

Jemma took a deep breath and looked ready to launch into a retort, but thankfully Rose was saved by Fitz’s timely arrival. Interestingly, his robe was trimmed with blue, though he had the same silver pin as Jemma.

“Oh, um, hello again,” he said haltingly to Rose. She smiled in sad amusement. Fitz reminded her a lot of Mickey: sweet, committed, and unable to act normally around attractive girls. Fitz may be smitten with her, but if he was actually dating her he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. No, guys like him needed to be with girls like Jemma. Speaking of which . . .

“So are you two a couple or what?” Rose asked as they started their way down the hallway the professor and the Doctor had disappeared down. That deposited them into what looked like a main hallway; students filled the corridor, all going different directions and jostling each other to get ahead.

“No we’re not a couple,” Fitz said loudly over the increased noise.

“We’re just best friends,” Jemma added just as loud.

“And nothing more.”

Rose smirked, but didn’t say anything. It sounded like they had been asked that question a lot and had rehearsed an answer. Maybe if she had enough time here, she could play matchmaker; they clearly needed it.

They went down a wide staircase, Fitz warning Rose about the fake stair and helping her over it. Eventually the stream of students thinned until they were following a handful of other students. They entered a classroom situated on the left of the passageway.

Rose looked around in amazement. The Potions classroom looked just like she had imagined it to be. The sight that first caught her eye was the massive cauldrons sitting on the wooden tables; they looked ready to crush the table legs. Next were the neatly-arranged jars that completely lined one entire wall, filled with brightly-colored liquids and dark shapes. Not wanting to know what was in them, Rose turned her attention to the front of the classroom, where a piece of chalk was writing instructions upon the board by itself.

A loud bell rang at that moment. Rose, still looking around the room, ignored the professor’s quick speech. She snapped out of it as Fitz and Jemma bumped into her while crossing the room. It was a very large space that could easily have held fifteen giant cauldrons, yet only five were set up. About twenty students milled about the classroom, collecting ingredients from the shelves.

The class period went quickly for Rose, as she watched the groups of students create their potions. Fitz and Jemma were paired with two mousy-looking students, each with yellow-fringed robes. The whole process looked rather complicated; ingredients were added at random times, the potion had to be stirred the right way the right amount of times, incantation was whispered over the smooth liquid, and for one ten-minute period the potion had to be left alone.

Finally, another bell rang, signaling the end of class. Fitz, Jemma, and the other two kids at their table quickly ladled the contents of their cauldron into glass beakers. The potion had turned many different colors throughout the process before finally settling on a dull brown color. Giving their beakers to the professor, they strode out of the classroom as a group, Rose lagging behind.

They made their way back to the main hallway, where Fitz and Jemma waved at each other before going different ways. Rose followed Jemma while taking the time to observe the students. Though they seemed to be comfortable and at ease, she noticed that they were all traveling in groups of three or more. The younger kids were in especially large groups, taking up large sections of the hallway in an effort not to be separated.

_They’re afraid of whatever it is_ , Rose thought. What could wizards be afraid of? She needed to do some more detective work.

“So,” Rose began, catching up to Jemma and walking by her side, “the students that have gone missing, any connection between them?”

Jemma sighed. “Nothing. All different ages, sexes, houses, races-“

“Houses? Oh, right.” Rose wished she had read the Harry Potter series more recently. Fitz’s robe, with its blue trim, flashed in her mind. “Fitz is Ravenclaw, right? The smart house?”

“Well, it’s more than just intelligence. Ravenclaw is also about creativity and wit.” Jemma shifted her bag to her other shoulder as they began to climb (yet another) long flight of stairs.

“And you’re wearing green, so . . . you’re in the evil house. Slipperthin.”

“It’s _Slytherin_ , and we’re _not_ the evil house,” Jemma replied, clearly aggravated. “We value ambition and determination, and just because people have abused that in the past does _not mean_ -“

“Alright, I’m sorry!” Rose lifted her hands to the level of her head. “It’s just, in the books all the Slytherins were bad people.”

“And that’s a reputation we’ve been fighting to change for a while now.” Jemma turned briskly at the top of the stairs, following the group of people in front of her.

Rose tried to get them back to the initial subject. “So, there’s nothing connecting the victims. Anything else? Were they in the same place, or at the same time of day, or something?”

“Well, nobody knows where they were because they were all out after hours.”

“That’s a good place to start,” Rose said confidently. She was ready to enter the open door in front of her, still following the students, when Jemma gripped her upper arm tightly. Rose spun around. Jemma’s face was firm and serious - but underneath it, Rose could see how concerned the girl was.

“Can you really do it? Find whoever or _whatever_ did this?” Jemma searched Rose’s face urgently, and Rose truly realized that Jemma was only a few years younger than herself. What was a girl like this doing trying to save a school by opening a wormhole? Then again, what was a girl like herself doing traveling through time and space? Maybe they weren't so different.

Rose gave Jemma a reassuring smile, one the worked on almost everyone she met. “The Doctor never fails,” she said quietly. “Even when it seems impossible, he always gets the bad guy.” Rose knew that if she believed in anything, she believed in the Doctor. In this crazy life of aliens, mysteries, and running, he was the solid constant that kept her going. As long as she could believe in him, she could believe in anything.

Rose wrapped her free arm around Jemma’s shoulders and gave the girl a slight squeeze. Jemma imperceptibly leaned in, letting out a shaky breath before letting Rose go. They entered the classroom side by side.

_I might be rubbish at mechanical stuff, but I do know how to help people_ , Rose thought as she took a seat next to Jemma. Unlike Potions, this class (“Magical Linguistics,” Jemma whispered) looked more organized and traditional. Desks and chairs were aligned in neat rows facing the front, where the professor, an old man who looked as if a strong breeze would knock him over, flipped through an enormous book. Like in Potions, a piece of chalk independently wrote notes on the blackboard.

Though the name of the class sounded interesting, Rose soon learned it was basically a Latin class. Severely bored, she spent most of the class doodling on a scrap of parchment Jemma gave her and thinking about the disappearing students. By the end of the class, a thought had occurred to her, as well as a possible way to find the perpetrator.

The loud bell woke Rose out of her doze. She had thought magical classes would be much more exciting than this. Rubbing her eyes, she once more followed Jemma through the complicated hallways. She thought she ought to pay more attention to where she was going, but then her stomach growled and she forgot all about it in favor of food.

“So, how was your nap?” Jemma asked kindly, but with a slightly mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Lovely, thanks,” Rose replied brightly. “It helped me get my thoughts in order. So, only wizards live here, right?”

“Yes. Well — there is old Filch.”

“Filch? He’s the caretaker, right?”

“Yes. Filch and Mr. Norris patrol the corridors, making sure things are all in order and giving students detention for being out of bounds.” Jemma smirked. “He’s become quite deaf, so he’s very irritable when he catches kids out of bed at night. Fitz and I have never been caught.”

The gears kept turning in Rose’s head. “So, he’s out after hours every night, but he hasn’t gone missing yet.”

A look of understanding dawned on Jemma’s face. “Whatever’s doing this is only interested in wizards.”

“Yeah. The question is, why.” Rose stopped suddenly. “Did that statue just wink at me?”

Jemma chuckled. “Probably. He likes winking at all the girls.” The statue in question was tucked in a little alcove and featured a handsome wizard with blond curls and fancy robes. “Not that I mind,” she added, cheeks turning slightly pink.

The girls passed through a tall set of double doors into what Rose recognized as the Great Hall. It looked just as she had imagined it: tall stone columns, the long table at the head of the hall, the enchanted ceiling decorating the hall with puffy clouds. However, the table set-up was different. Instead of four long rows of tables, there were lots of smaller circular tables scattered all around the hall. Students casually weaved their way between the tables, obviously accustomed to it.

“What happened to the long tables?” Rose asked, following Jemma to a nearly-crowded table in the center. Already seated were two Slytherin boys, a Hufflepuff girl, and a Gryffindor girl.

“We still use those for breakfast and dinner. But we as a student body decided on smaller tables for lunch to encourage interaction between houses. I think it’s marvelous.” Jemma greeted the people at the table warmly. She and Rose sat next to each other, leaving one chair open on Jemma’s left, most likely for Fitz.

Jemma briefly introduced Rose before getting into a conversation with the Hufflepuff. Rose eagerly grabbed a cucumber sandwich; but before she could take a bite, a voice interrupted, “Hello young lady, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Rose looked over her shoulder and jumped slightly. A partially transparent figure was standing — well, more like floating — just behind her right shoulder. His clothing was clearly outdated by several centuries, his face was lined, and his neck didn’t look quite right . . .

“Hey, you’re that ghost, Nearly Headless Nick!”

“I _prefer_ ,” he replied stiffly, his voice less amicable, “to be known as Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, thank you very much.” All the students around the table tried to hide their amusement.

“Hang on,” Rose interrupted. “You _are_ actually a ghost, right? You’re not an alien or something?”

“Of course not!” the ghost replied indignantly. “I am a proud British nobleman, not some foreigner-“

“So Nick, anything interesting happening?” Jemma asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“Oh, just normal ghost activities. Apparently a student offended the Grey Lady, so she’s been moping outside the Divination room for the past two days.” Nick threaded his fingers through his hair and tugged; his head fell to one side, barely attached to the neck by a flap of skin. Though he was a ghost, Rose still found the sight slightly nauseating and turned back to the table, cramming the sandwich in her mouth.

Scratching the stump of his neck, Nick continued, “And Peeves has been a nuisance, as always. For some reason he’s been hanging out on the sixth floor recently, banging doors and throwing books on the floor in the middle of the night. He’s a disgrace to the rest of us ghosts.” He pushed his head back into place, shifting it marginally to make sure it aligned with his neck. Sniffing disdainfully, he floated away from their table.

“Why’d you ask if Nick was an alien?” inquired Jemma.

“Oh, I met some aliens passing as ghosts in Cardiff once,” Rose replied nonchalantly. “The Doctor and I stopped them from taking over the world.”

Jemma lifted an eyebrow skeptically.

“What? You believe in magic and parallel universes but not aliens?”

“Well, it’s not that I _don’t_ believe in them — it would be quite amazing if they existed — it’s that I tend to believe in the _possibility_ of their existence rather than-“

Fitz slid into the seat next to Jemma, panting. He slammed a piece of crumpled parchment paper on the table, his hand obscuring most of it. “Jemma, do you know this book?”

Jemma and Rose both moved their heads closer to the parchment. Jemma brightened as she brushed her hair behind her ear. “ _Unravelling the Seecrets of Tyme_. Ah, yes, I remember checking this book out last year. It’s in the Restricted Section, you’ll have to get a teacher to-“

“Thanks.” Grabbing two cucumber sandwiches with his free hand, Fitz stood up, stuffing the parchment back in pocket. Dipping his head quickly at Rose, he turned and hurried out of the Great Hall.

“Fitz, wait!” But he was too far away to hear Jemma. She sighed and drank from the goblet in front of her. “I hope he’s not still writing that report for Transfiguration; he won’t finish in time for class. Speaking of which, it’s time to go.”

Rose curiously drank from her own goblet and found the liquid inside was a juice of some sort — she couldn’t decide if it was apple or pumpkin. “Actually, I thought I would go back to my room and - and let the Doctor know what I’ve found.” _Anything to get out of attending another boring class_ , she thought.

Jemma looked disappointed. “Oh. Alright then.” She plastered on a small smile as she stood. “Well, I should escort you there.”

“Thanks.” Not wanting it to seem like she didn’t like the girl, Rose added, “Maybe you could give me a tour of the castle tomorrow if you have a free period?”

Jemma’s smile grew noticeably more genuine. “I’d be delighted! There’s so many places to show you — and I bet you’ll love the library.”

Rose half-listened as they retraced the way back to the guest room. Now that she had walked this route three times, she was starting to remember landmarks: the large stained-glass window depicting what looked like a house-elf party, the statue of Elizabeth Burke (“A female _and_ Slytherin headmaster!”), and a vibrantly-painted door whose color changed every few hours. Her room was two doors down from that one.

Jemma and Rose stopped just outside the room. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Jemma said, shifting the strap of her messenger bag.

Rose flashed the girl a grin. “You better.” She enveloped Jemma in a hug, which Jemma returned. Rose had always liked hugs; they represented warmth and comfort and trust. The Doctor wasn’t much of a hugger, but that made his infrequent embraces that much more special. She released her arms and watched Jemma walk back for a moment before entering the guest room.

The Doctor was lying flat on his back on his bed. Rose ran over to him and jumped onto the space beside him. The bed bounced and the Doctor was momentarily separated from the bed. His glasses flew off his face and fell to the ground. “What was that?” he exclaimed, startled into sitting up against the headboard.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” Rose settled next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “So, what’d you find?”

“Well, it turns out you were right,” he said cheerfully. “There’s a real proper alien running around Hogwarts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alienometer is inspired by the device the Tenth Doctor used in “The Day of the Doctor”.
> 
> “Magical Linguistics” is a class I invented because it seems like a class that would be handy for Jemma to take (basically learning Latin and understanding how to create the names of spells). According to the Harry Potter Wikia, which got its information from Pottermore, specialized classes are sometimes held for sixth and seventh years if there is enough demand. I consider the information released on Pottermore canon, which makes Magical Linguistics canon-compliant.
> 
> The potion they were making was Essence of Dittany.
> 
> Sorry about the wait for this chapter - it's the longest chapter so far, plus school started, meaning I've been incredibly busy. I might take up to a month between chapters, so please bear with me.


	5. On the Hunt

The Doctor followed the professor into the main hallway of the school. They shifted and twisted their way through the mass of students until they found an empty spot against the wall. They stopped there, briefly watching the students flow and move around them. In the middle of the crowd, the Doctor saw Rose, Fitz, and Jemma make their way over to a descending staircase and disappear from sight.

The rational part of the Doctor’s mind knew Rose would be alright. After all, she was surrounded by wizards, and the attacks had only happened at night. Still, there was that tiny part that worried about her whenever he couldn’t see her. A tiny little emotional impulse that both confused and exhilarated him.

“Any reason why we’ve stopped here?” the Doctor asked, pushing Rose out of his head (a difficult task).

“We’re waiting for the students to leave and clear our path,” Professor Henstridge commented. “Unless you’d like to get trampled?”

As the crowd of students slowly thinned, the Doctor pulled the alienometer out of his pocket and turned it on, watching the screen light up. So far, so good.

“You’ll need this.” The professor pulled a blank piece of parchment and her wand out of her inner robe pocket. She touched the tip of her wand to the parchment and gently skimmed it over the paper. Inky lines slowly appeared on the paper, forming hallways and staircases and rooms until it resembled a map. A pulsing dot appeared next to one of the larger rooms, while a tiny red _x_ marked an area near a corner of the parchment. The words _First Floor_ appeared briefly in loopy cursive before vanishing.

“I have to admit, I’m impressed,” the Doctor said, examining her wand. Such a plain piece of wood, and yet all the things it could do; it reminded him quite a bit of his sonic, actually.

The professor smiled, erasing some of the lines of her face. “Thank you. Now, this is a map so you can find your way back when you’re done exploring. This dot represents you currently, and the _x_ is your room. Anytime you change floors, the map will change to show you that floor.” She handed him the parchment, which he grabbed with his free hand.

“Good luck, Doctor. Be careful.” She gave him a solemn nod before walking away.

“Right then, off I go,” the Doctor muttered to himself. He studied the floor plan of the first floor; it might take him all morning just to survey that. And from the books he knew there was at least seven floors.

_Think, Doctor._ Based on the map, there were a lot of rooms on the first floor, which were likely classrooms. Chances were, an alien that had remained undetected for a month wasn’t hiding in places with lots of people. Unless it was among the students. It could be possessing a student, or have kidnapped the original and taken its place. Then it could be anyone . . .

He shifted the map to his other hand and ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. One problem at a time. He couldn’t determine if one of the students was an alien yet since they were scattered all over the castle in classes. That could wait. For now, he would assume the alien was _not_ a student and was hiding somewhere.

“Well then, let’s have a look at floor two,” he said aloud, to break the weighted silence around him. It was times like these when he realized how much he needed his companions. They kept him company, appreciated his brilliance, even saved his life. And Rose . . . even when he was at his lowest point, her determination and gorgeous smile kept him going, kept him from giving up. With a sigh, he headed toward the main staircase, suddenly feeling dwarfed and lonely.

He had completely searched the second and third floors, and was on his way to the fourth, when a bell rang throughout the corridors. With it came the background hum of students filling the hallways and going to their next classes. So far, nothing. The Doctor wished the TARDIS was nearby; she could probably amplify the signal so he could search a whole floor in a minute.

Thankfully, every floor after the third floor had a smaller floorplan than the ones below, with less rooms and hallways. Still, the Doctor felt his two hearts beating rather fast by the time he finished the fifth floor. So many stairs, so many corridors, so many places to check. Once he had tripped on the edge of his long coat and fell through a tapestry hanging on a wall, which turned out to be the entrance to a secret passageway.

To fill the silence, the Doctor began muttering to himself. “So, there may or may not be an alien running around this school snatching kids. Assuming for the sake of argument there is, why here? Well, for the magic of course.” Having finished the fifth floor, he wearily started up the next staircase. “Magic is an incredibly energy source, and a school is practically a nuclear facility; there’s magic all over the place. So it’s taking students and using their energy. But what for?”

Halfway up the steps the staircase gave a sudden jolt; the Doctor fell against the railing and clung to it for support. The staircase began to pivot from the bottom, its top landing swiveling from an open hallway to a shut door. He had forgotten about the moving staircases. Once the staircase stopped, the Doctor continued climbing until he reached the top.

Almost immediately the alarm on his alienometer was activated and the yellow button flashed at him. “Finally!” he exclaimed, hunching over the small screen on his device. A large black circle on the upper half of the screen was moving swiftly from the left to the right. It looked like the alien (a real proper alien, as Rose had predicted) was moving swiftly past the door.

“Right. Time to get to business.” The Doctor crossed the landing in a few short strides and turned the doorknob. It was locked.

He sighed. “Why are they always locked?” he complained, stuffing the alienometer under one arm and reaching for his sonic screwdriver with the other. A few seconds with the screwdriver and a small _click_ told him the door was now unlocked. He confidently pushed it open.

The Doctor registered two things at once: one, the area behind the door was pitch black, meaning he couldn’t see a thing; and two, the alienometer had suddenly gone quiet. He frowned and stuffed the map in his pocket so he could hold the alienometer in his free hand. It had clearly registered an alien presence — to turn off now meant it had gotten out of range, indicating what he was dealing with was incredibly fast.

Just inside the door on the wall to his left at eye-level was a sconce holding an unlit torch. The Doctor quickly used his sonic to light it and, gripping his sonic with his teeth, lifted the torch out of the sconce. _I really need more hands,_ he thought. He inwardly chuckled at the thought. _Imagine that, a four-armed Doctor._

He walked in the direction the alien had been moving, sweeping the torch from side to side. Quite a few cobwebs were found in the corners and chinks in the walls; clearly this part of the floor had been in disuse for several years at least. The torchlight wavered as the Doctor turned sharply at the upcoming corner. He could see that there were several doors along the right wall, likely unused classrooms. There seemed to be a faint banging noise coming from behind one of them.

The Doctor crept forward cautiously, glancing at his alienometer. It remained silent. In his mind, he quickly ran through a list of all the beings that lived in Hogwarts. Students, teachers, house-elves, ghosts . . . maybe it was a stray pet? Or worse . . .

The second door down burst open and out floated what looked to be a small gray man, featuring a hunched back and a gleeful smile. In his arms he carried what looked like the disassembled parts of several chairs.

The little man noticed the Doctor immediately. “What’s this I see,” he crooned, “an intruder in the castle? Have we a ickle-fickle fiend?”

“Ah, hello Peeves,” the Doctor said calmly, speaking around his screwdriver. He fought to hide his excitement of meeting an actual poltergeist. All these years he’d been traveling, and still every new and unique life form excited him. It was one of the things that kept him traveling, really. “Causing trouble again?”

“Trouble? Me?” Peeves looked comically offended. “Mr. Fiend is mean.”

Then, brandishing a chair leg, Peeves zoomed towards the Doctor, cackling madly. The Doctor, deciding quickly that he didn’t want to deal with a bored poltergeist when both his hands were full, pivoted and ran back the way he came. Peeves’ cackling echoed weirdly on the stone walls, filling the whole corridor with a ghostly repeating giggle.

The Doctor skidded to a stop at the door, which he had thankfully left open. He ran through it and back onto the staircase. As soon as Peeves appeared in the doorway, the Doctor chucked the torch in that direction. The poltergeist swerved deftly and continued toward the Doctor, acting like he was in a jousting tournament. Hand now free, the Doctor removed his sonic from between his teeth and pointed it at Peeves.

Peeves quickly stopped, eyeing the screwdriver. “You’re no fun,” he pouted, returning the chair leg to the rest of the stack. He then sullenly drifted down through the staircase and disappeared from sight.

The Doctor breathed a small sigh of relief. He remembered from the Harry Potter books that Peeves could get really nasty if he wanted to. As the staircase began moving back to the open corridor from which it had left, the Doctor scanned the map. Just a section of the sixth floor left before the final floor.

He quickly explored the rest of the sixth floor, finding nothing and no one — well, except for two students passionately making out. Rolling his eyes, he made his way back onto the main staircase and ascended to the seventh floor.

Swinging his alienometer side to side, he picked up another hit. The large dot was rapidly moving from the center of the screen to the right side, indicating the hallway on his right. “You’re not getting away this time!” the Doctor declared, turning to chase the signal. His long legs fell into a familiar rhythm, pumping as fast as they would go, pounding the stone floor. (His coat streaming behind him totally made him look cool.)

He was fast, but the alien was faster. The Doctor skidded around a corner just as the alienometer quieted once more. He kept running, though he noticed the long stretch of hallway in front of him was deserted and the wall at the upcoming three-way junction was blank with no doors. He slowed to a stop as he reached the junction, quickly peeking both ways. Nobody.

Stuffing his sonic screwdriver in his pocket, the Doctor ran his hand through his spiked hair and began to pace. The alien must have heard or seen him, because both times it seemed to run away from his presence. Or perhaps there were two different aliens, one on the sixth floor and one on the seventh. He would need the TARDIS’ amplification circuitry to determine that.

Turning his back to the blank wall, he stopped as he noticed a hideous tapestry hanging opposite the blank wall. It appeared to show a group of greenish trolls wearing pink tutus and pointe shoes, dancing around a small man in a forest clearing. The Doctor watched as the trolls in the tapestry moved, lumbering around in a circle, the man in the middle shouting directions at them. “Even _I_ can dance ballet better than that,” he muttered before returning the way he came.

As he began the long descent back to the first floor, a bell rang again. Within seconds students were flooding the main stairwell from every direction, chatting noisily and bumping into each other. Sighing, the Doctor held the alienometer close to his body and yielded to the flow of the crowd. Back outside the Great Hall, he extricated himself and made his way back to the guest room.

He fell backward onto his bed and shifted so his shoes were almost hanging off the edge. Staring at the ceiling, the Doctor’s thoughts raced through his brain: analyzing species that could move that fast, considering the alien’s motive, wondering where the missing students had gone. He was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear Rose come in, and was startled by her enthusiastic entrance.

_You need to relax._ He was getting to solve a mystery at Hogwarts, involving aliens and wormholes. The Doctor grinned as he relaxed against the headboard. Now _this_ would be an adventure to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taken so long for me to post another chapter. School’s been kicking my ass this semester, last week was midterms week, and I lost my writing inspiration for a little bit. But spring break is pretty much here, so I’ll probably be able to get another chapter published by the end of break. Thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> On that note, the next three chapters are likely to be fairly small and will focus more on the characters rather than the plot. But rest assured, the plot will continue to move forward!
> 
> The geography of Hogwarts is confusing — I’ve spent quite a bit of time on the HP Wikia going over the different floors and what’s on them and how they connect to each other. It’s all a confusing mess. So I’m taking some . . . artistic license with the layout.


End file.
